TOW Monica's Lesson
by Becca Bing
Summary: Monica acts mad towards Chandler in order to teach him a lesson. M&C mush. Please r&r tankies!


TOW Monica's Lesson

Hey, it's 'lil 'ol me here for a standalone fic! This idea popped in my head yesterday morning, while I was getting ready for school. Therefore, if it sucks, it's 'cuz my ideas are even worse when I've just woken up.;) I decided to write it now 'cuz I've had a rough time for the past couple of days, and I really need to take my mind off of it. And what's a better way to get your mind off of your life than to write a mushy M&C fic?! I sure as hell don't know! Hmm…what you should know for this fic…Monica and Chandler are married, and it's Monica's POV. Ok, the words in italics are more Monica's thoughts, while the normal words are dialogue and whatnot. Hopefully you'll figure it out along the way.:) **Some season 9 spoilers, so if you have not seen season 9 and don't want to be spoiled, then I suggest not reading this.** You've been warned. Ok, lastly, I wanna dedicate this fic to Stephie and Jenni (#1) for talking to me when I was really upset last night. You gals really helped me, since I was so freaked and I couldn't talk to anyone who knew me offline. I luv ya's! (Don't worry--I love all my readers…) Anyways, *gets readers out of dark* please read and review, thanks! 

**Disclaimer: **Nope, can't say I own 'em. 

What I did, I don't think is wrong. I don't think that any other person has the right to judge me. Sometimes, you just have to show them who's boss. It may be deceitful and it may be controlling, but it has to be done. Each person has their place, and sometimes, you have to remind them where they stand. 

"Hey Babe," Chandler greeted as he entered our apartment. 

When he entered, I was cooking over the stove. I smiled at the sight of him.

_Although I never really expressed it, I was so glad to have him home from Tulsa. When he was away, I had missed him a lot. Plus, the apartment felt lonely when he wasn't there with me. _

"Hey there." 

Chandler placed his briefcase out of the way, and came over to me. "So, what's cookin', good lookin'?" 

_His jokes…they can get annoying. Very annoying, sometimes. But, I usually love them anyway, because it's what makes Chandler…well Chandler._

I opened the oven and looked inside. "Your sense of humor, I think. Maybe I should burn it." 

"Haha." 

"I thought so." 

"So, what are we having?"

"Ravioli." 

"Again?" Chandler whined. 

"What do you mean, again? We haven't had ravioli in like a month." 

"Yeah I know," he complained, "But I just really don't like your ra—" 

Chandler stopped when he noticed me glaring at him. 

_I just couldn't believe it! He didn't like my ravioli? No, I decided. I must have misunderstood him.  _

"You don't like my ravioli?" 

Chandler mouthed wordlessly for a few moments. 

"Well?" 

"No, no, no, if you would have let me finish, I would've said that I don't like your ravioli without…a…Co…ke. And," he chuckled, "We don't have any Coke." 

_If there is one thing that Chandler is terrible at, it's lying._

"Don't lie to me!" 

"Ok fine, I don't like your ravioli." 

It was true. He really didn't like my ravioli. But I'm his wife! He has to like everything I make. 

"Why not?!" 

"It's just…all the spices…and…it's too sophisticated for my tastes, that's all. But don't worry! Tons of other people love it, Mon!" 

"Yes, but you're my husband. You should love everything I make!" 

He scowled. "You don't love everything I make."

"Yes, but I'm your wife. I don't have to."

Chandler gave me a look. "Can I see a copy of your 'marriage rules' by any chance?"

I ignored his quip._ It's times like that I cannot stand his 'cute little jokes'. _

"I can't believe you don't like my ravioli!" 

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Well, you should be!" With that, I ran into our bedroom and slammed the door closed. When I was inside, I grabbed his pillow and a blanket and I opened the door again.

"Don't you dare think I'm going to let **you** sleep next to me tonight!"

"But Mon—"

I cut him off by throwing the pillow and blanket at him.

"Good night!" I said angrily. With that, I slammed the door shut.

"Good night," I heard Chandler call through the door. 

_I smiled, despite myself. He was so sweet. I knew that he hadn't meant to hurt my feelings. I just had to teach him a lesson. Make sure he never did anything like that ever again. So, I decided I would be mad at him for another day or so. Or until he made some effort to gain back favor in my eyes, of course. And by effort, I mean an expensive dinner, a beautiful bracelet…ya know, the normal 'I'm sorry' gifts from husbands. Ok, so maybe we can't afford **that** right now, but I decided he'd think of something. _

_          That night, I woke up in need of the bathroom. Once I finished, I turned to go back to my room, but stopped. I heard Chandler lightly snoring on the couch. I'm lucky that he doesn't snore loudly. I remember that Richard snored like a buzz saw. It kept me up half the night. However, Chandler's snores—they're light and cute. They sometimes even sooth me to sleep. I walked over to him and knelt beside him. Thanks to the light of the street below me, I watched as his chest rose and fell in front of me. I felt this overwhelming desire to lay down on top of him and fall asleep with his arms around me. Still, I had my lesson to teach, and I, in turn, had to ignore this feeling. I closed my eyes and imagined the feeling of his arms around me. Although we normally only cuddle when one of us is upset or after sex, I love the cuddling. I know that Chandler does, too. I was actually very surprised to find that out. I mean Chandler doesn't seem like the type of guy who would like to cuddle. Of course, over the years we've been together, Chandler has surprised me millions of times. He's so loving and affectionate. Suddenly, I was jolted out of my thoughts when I saw a pair of blue eyes staring at me in the glow of the moonlight._

"I thought you were mad at me." 

"I am." 

"Then why are you here?" 

"I couldn't sleep." 

"So you're watching me sleep?"

I blushed. "Maybe." 

"So let me get this straight," Chandler began, "You're mad at me?"

"Yes."

"But you're watching me sleep."

"Yes."

"But you're mad at me?"

"Yes!" 

I was getting frustrated at his complacency. He thought that he had me all figured out. He assumed that I was no longer mad with him. Well, he had a thing or two coming to him. 

"Ok, I'm going back to sleep. And I'm **definitely** still mad."

I turned to head back to our bedroom, but he grabbed my arm and began kissing it softly. 

"Ha! You think that you're going to get some tonight?!" 

"Well, we've have had sex when we were fighting." 

"Yes, but I'm not ovulating today." 

"Yes, but I'm so irresistible." 

I chucked. "You wish, Bing." 

Still, I couldn't bring myself to leave right away. You would think that after being with a man for so long, I would be able to resist him. Yet, there was some magnetic force keeping me there. His lips were now on my shoulder, and I was torn between my dignity and my desires. I stood still for a bit longer, as his lips reached my neck, but left it quickly. I stifled a laugh at that action, remembering a recent fight that we had. I was touched that he remembered that I told him I hated when he kissed my neck, but I had lied to him. I really love when he kisses my neck. I just said that in order to make him angry. I mean he told me that he wouldn't kiss my neck. I couldn't let him know that I would hate that! So, I bluffed and said that I didn't mind. That's another rule; in a fight, the wife always has to seem like she wins. I mean maybe, in reality, it bugged me that he wouldn't kiss my neck, but he didn't know. That was all that mattered. 

_          Once I felt Chandler's hands roam my body, I remembered that I had to teach him a lesson. Reminding myself that the makeup sex would be even better if I waited longer and made him feel guiltier, I stepped away. _

"Not now, big guy." 

"But Mon," he whispered huskily, "I need you now." 

"Should've thought of that before you insulted my cooking."

"I—I didn't insult your cooking! Just one dish!"

"Save it for the judge!" 

Then, I turned towards our bedroom, and I heard him plop back on to the couch. Remembering one last thing, I turned around hastily, knowing that if he didn't get it from me, he would looking towards something else. 

"And _no _porn tonight!" 

"Yes Mon." 

          _The next day, the gang was congregated at our apartment, like normal. I love how they all come to **my** apartment and eat **my** food. Of course, Joey shouldn't really count. I mean he ate my bar of soap once thinking it was a cookie. The worst part is that he actually liked it! He had a plan to market soap crackers once. I'm glad that phase is over. But, other than Joey, everyone comes to my apartment for a good meal. Ha, no a great meal.  Of course, we all know each other so well, that immediately they sensed that we were fighting. I was pretty amazed by that. I mean I wasn't outwardly showing my anger towards him. _

"Monica," Chandler asked, "Pass the milk?"

Angrily, I threw the milk down beside him, splashing him in the face. 

Chandler rolled his eyes and sweetly said, "Thank you for the milk bath." 

I gave him a frustrated look and he recoiled slightly.

Ok, so maybe I was showing some resentment towards Chandler, but still. I think that I was acting pretty civil.

"What's wrong with you guys?" Rachel wondered.

"Nothing," I answered through gritted teeth.

"Right."

"Chandler said he didn't like my cooking!" I yelled, pointing a finger at him. 

Hey, I had to make it dramatic; get the rest of the gang on my side.

The others gasped at my comment. 

"Dude," Joey reminded him, "You don't _ever_,** _ever_** tell Monica you don't like her food." 

"Yeah!" Ross agreed, "That's how I got this scar." He lifted up his arm to show a large scar running down it.

"Hey!" I argued, "I didn't **mean** to do that." 

"Right. Your nail just happened to slide down my arm…repeatedly!" Ross paused for a moment, "Wow, Chandler, you're getting off easy." 

"That's for the advice…it's really gonna help me now."

"Hey, that is why you should never had said it in the first place," Phoebe commented. 

Chandler rolled his eyes and stirred his coffee wildly.

"Hey, don't make a mess!" Joey warned, "That's just gonna make it worse!" 

Chandler stopped stirring and rolled his eyes. 

          Later that morning, everybody, aside from Rachel, had left my apartment. 

"So, Chandler said he didn't like your food, huh?"

"Yup."

"Don't you think you're being a little harsh on him? I mean the man deserves to have an opinion aside from your own." 

I laughed. "Yeah, I know. I'm just teaching him a lesson."

"A lesson? Isn't that kind of cruel?"

"Hey!" I pointed my finger at her, "You aren't married. You don't know how it works!" 

Rachel put up her hands in mock defense. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." 

"If I don't do this, then what's next? Chandler goes off to dinner without telling me? He leaves town without telling me?! I have to keep tabs on my husband!"

"Ok Mon. You freak me out when you get all controlling," Rachel got up and headed towards the door with Emma in her arms, "So I'm gonna go." 

"Fine, just don't tell Chandler what I told you, okay?"

"Sure, sure," Rachel said distractedly and then left. 

          _That night, I came home from an exhausting day at work. I mean nobody can do anything right! I opened the door and gasped at what I saw. There was Chandler, dressed in a tuxedo, holding a single red rose. I tried to hide my smile as I approached him. _

"What's this for?" 

He moved close to me and whispered in my ear, "I'm so sorry, Mon. Ok, so maybe I don't like your ravioli, but I can safely say that everyone at my," he made quotations in the air with his fingers, "_'job' _loved your ravioli."

"What? How—" 

"How would they know?"

I nodded, completely baffled by his statement. 

"Well, I brought in the leftover ravioli and they all loved it."

I frowned. "I don't believe you."

"I figured you wouldn't." He shot me one of his adorable smiles, took out a dozen letters and handed them to me. I looked at them as he continued to talk. "See, I brought your ravioli into my meeting and they all loved it so much! Then, knowing that you wouldn't take my word for it, I asked them all to write down that they love your ravioli." 

I smiled, touched by his gesture. "I can't believe you did that for me."

Chandler's voice quieted. "Well, I hate when you're mad at me."

"I hate when I'm mad at you, too." 

We locked eyes for a moment, and I began to fidget. Chandler sent me a knowing smile, aware of exactly what I wanted to do.

"You wanna go read the letters?"

"Yuhuh!" 

He gestured for me to read, and we both sat down on the couch. 

"The best ravioli I've ever had," I read aloud. I then turned to Chandler. "Yeah okay!" I continued to read, and then looked up at him. "Why do they all call me '_Mrs. Bing'_?"

Chandler gave me an amused look. "Well, you are my wife…even though you don't always go by Bing. I mean they just assumed, I gu—"

I cut him off. "No, that's not what I mean. What I mean is, why not Monica? Why are they so formal? Aren't you just their colleague?" 

"Yeah, well…" he trailed off, embarrassed. "I'm a little older than them, so they feel they have to respect me."

"Aww, I'm sorry." _I felt bad for bringing it up. I had completely forgotten about his age difference there._ "Maybe if you show them a picture of your hot wife, they'd look past your age."

Chandler laughed, "I doubt that would happen, babe."

I gave him an angry look._ Did he just call me old?_

"Uhh…" he stuttered, "What I meant was it wouldn't work because then they'd steal you away from me because you're so young and beautiful and then they'd still find me old and…"

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

He looked at me, shocked. Then, he gained his composure and obeyed my demand. After he broke the kiss, he pulled back and looked into my eyes. 

I smiled at him and whispered, "This better be some good 'I'm sorry sex'."

"Would you really expect anything less from me?"

"Well…?"

His eyes widened, causing me to laugh and kiss his cheek. "I'm just kidding."

"Ok, phew." 

          _So, after that, I decided to forgive him for everything he had said. I realized that he had learned his lesson, at least for now. Plus, I enjoyed myself very much that night. I felt confident that my strategy had worked. However, my plans came back to bite me in the ass. I had only made one mistake through the entire thing. However, that mistake was a deadly one. One breech in the plan that caused it to fail. That weak link was, of course, my dear, gossiping friend Rachel. _

"Monica!" Chandler called into the apartment that next afternoon. "Monica!"

I came out of our room. "Yeah?" 

"You were trying to keep me in line?! That's why you were mad at me?!"

I tried to play the innocent card. "What?" 

"You used that fight just to teach me a lesson?! I thought that you were seriously hurting!" 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Rachel told me." 

My face fell. _There was no approach to bluff my way out of trouble now._ "You were never supposed to find out." 

"Monica, do I have **no** say in this relationship?"

I approached him slowly. "Of course you do."

"Like what?" 

"I let you choose…the…" 

"Yeah?"

The truth was, I couldn't think of anything that I let him choose. 

"I let you choose where we have sex."

"What?! No you don't."

"What if I let you choose tonight?" I asked in a seductive tone.

He thought for a second. "So balcony?"

I giggled. "It's a little cold. Would you be able to do it?"

He frowned and thought for a moment. "The car **with** the heat on." 

"The car?! But that was my fa—" I offered Chandler a smile off of his look, "My father's…suggestion…to do with...the car. Come on, let's go!" 

          _That, of course, won me back favor in my husband's eyes. Rachel is **so** lucky that Chandler's easy to please. But ya know what, I should be devastated that Chandler now knows my secret, but I'm not. That's part of marriage, at least for me--finding new ways to clue my husband in to my demands, without outwardly telling him. I guess that this whole situation taught me a lesson, too. Never tell Rachel anything you don't want other people to know. _

OK, I hope it wasn't too confusing. I tried my hardest. Anyways anyshmays, please leave me a review. That would be greatly appreciated. Thanks!


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